


Oh happy dagger! This is thy sheath

by stolashoots



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gore, Sword au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stolashoots/pseuds/stolashoots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasch drops his hand. “So be it.” He lifts his sword, and with three long strides, he’s right in front of Yuma. Yuma just barely reacts and moves to block, both his hand scrambling to grip the hilt but too slippery to grasp it properly. With a single, elegant movement, Nasch rips Yuma’s sword from his hands, and the blade goes flying.</p>
<p>Hands empty, Yuma gropes for the hilt at his hip. He yanks Hope out, knowing the dagger is no match for Nasch’s sword, but he has to do something. Nasch steps back, aims, and dives forward for the finishing strike. Yuma brings up Hope, and-</p>
<p>It all happens so fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh happy dagger! This is thy sheath

**Author's Note:**

> Based upon Bus and my Sword AU, aka where everything is the same except with more swords. Big thanks to Bus for inspiring me to write this, and for helping me out with everything.

The bleeding won’t stop. He and Kotori have tried everything, applying pressure and wrapping it up with a torn piece of cloth, and even then, it still oozes through the bandages. He wishes he had proper gauze or something to stitch the slice with, maybe then he wouldn’t have to worry about bleeding out on top of everything else.

Yuma rolls his shoulder, and has to bite back tears at the sudden flare of pain. His wound isn’t too deep, more like a slash across his left shoulder and collar, and as far as he can tell, nothing is broken or punctured. Even though it’s on his non-dominant arm, he can’t just not move it, in a real battle, he needs his whole body fully functional and able to move; he can’t be passing out from pain if he tries to roll to dodge an attack.

It could be worse, he knows. He got out of the battle with Don Thousand still alive, unlike Mizael. Even now, after all he’s gone through, he can still see Mizael as Don Thousand hacked him down with a single strike of his oodachi, see as his appendages were severed, see the horror on Mizael’s face the instant he understood he wasn’t coming out of this alive. And, in the end, the one left standing was Don Thousand, wearing an almost sad expression as if he had regrets.

(Simply a façade, of course. A monster like Don Thousand could never feel such a human emotion.

Don Thousand’s smile of amusement moments later when Yuma screamed for Mizael will forever be seared into his mind. “It’s too late,” he says as Yuma runs to Mizael’s crumpled form, “this is the punishment traitors deserve.” He doesn’t even have the respect to end Mizael’s suffering; Mizael is spitting up blood by the time Yuma reaches him, fingers on his intact hand twitching as Mizael tries to gurgle out a message to Yuma, and -)

“Yuma,” Kotori’s hand is on his good shoulder. “Yuma, don’t think about it.” She tells him, and he wants to demand how, how is he not supposed to think about Mizael’s death, or Alit and Gilag’s death, or Kaito’s death, or, or, or… But he doesn’t, because he knows she’s just trying to help. Kotori is just like him, suffering and unable to stop this war, only, she can’t fight like Yuma can. She should be back at home with her family, safe cowering in their house while the Earth becomes Hell, not out here in the midst of all the fighting. Even if she’s not directly participating in the duels, she’s still at risk of becoming injured, and there’s nothing here to prevent her from witnessing her friends fall from gruesome deaths.

Go home, Yuma wants to tell her, but instead, he looks into her eyes and says. “Don’t leave me, please, Kotori.” There’s a weakness in his heart that’s terrified she’ll leave just like everyone else, that Yuma will be left alone with the burden of the world pressing down on his shoulders. One way or another, everyone else has already abandoned him, and he can’t take much more of this.

Kotori nods. She drops her hand from his shoulder to grasp Yuma’s hands. “I promise, Yuma. I’ll stay by your side until the end.” He’s asking too much from her; he’s too selfish, but some of the weight on his heart lifts as she says this. Yuma can only hope that she won’t be forced to watch his death too.

“Yuma, it’s not over yet.” Astral is hovering over them, flicking their eyes between them and the land around them, their body tense as if expecting an ambush.

“What do you mean?” Don Thousand is gone, what else is there to do? Finding the Code should be easy, right? Yuma’s hand drops to the hilt of Hope. Just touching the dagger calms his nerves.

Astral doesn’t meet his eyes. “The Barian Emperor Nasch is after the Numeron Code as well. We will have to defeat him before he reaches it.”

“No,” says Yuma, reeling. “No, we fought by Shark’s side against Don Thousand, he won’t, he won’t…” Yuma can’t fight against Shark because almost every duel that has been fought since the Barians invaded has ended with one of his friends dying. His match against Alit was a fluke; he was able to break Don Thousand’s manipulations over him and save Alit, but he had the advantage of being well rested then. Now, he’s bone tired and sapped of energy, it’s amazing he hasn’t dropped from exhaustion. He can’t fight Shark and expect to escape unscathed.

“Unless Nasch stands aside, we have no choice.” Astral pauses, then sighs. “I’m sorry, Yuma.” The apology only makes him feel worse.

Yuma looks to Kotori, but her face is already set in resignation. “No,” Yuma repeats. “I’m not going to fight him. Shark is my friend, I won’t hurt him.” His partners don’t respond, but they’re pitying looks say more than words ever could. They believe Yuma and Nasch dueling is inevitable. Yuma will have to prove them wrong.

Even with Kotori’s help, Yuma still struggles to his feet. His knees buckle under him, protesting any form of movement, but he shoves the pain out of his mind as he staggers forward.

“Yuma, where are you going?” Astral’s voice is soft, and they easily keep up with his slow pace.

“To find Shark. I… I’m going to talk to him. Maybe there’s another way to reach him.” Yuma tries not to think about how, only weeks ago, he believed dueling was the easiest way to connect to another person. Now, he knows better. Ultimately, swordplay will only lead to death. Astral doesn’t try to stop him, they probably want Yuma to go and find Nasch to get this over with anyway.

“Yuma, you haven’t cleaned your blade yet,” Kotori tries. She stands right by Yuma’s side, prepared to catch him if he stumbles.

“I’m not going to be using it.” Yuma insists. His sword can rust as far as he cares; he’s sure his father won’t mind considering everything that he’s been through. If he never has to participate in another swordfight, it’ll be too soon.

They find Nas- Shark. They find Shark not far away, standing still as if waiting for something. “Shark,” Yuma calls to him, and Shark turns to them.

“Yuma, Astral.” Shark greets them, his hand lingering on the hilt of his blade, still sheathed. Kotori makes a face at being forgotten, but she stays silent. “I see you’ve come. Are you prepared for battle?”

Yuma visibly recoils as if slapped. “Shark, I, I’m not going to duel you. I’m sure there’s a way we can settle this without fighting, right?”

“No, Yuma. You need the Numeron Code to destroy the Barian world. I need the Numeron Code to save my people. There’s nothing else to discuss.” Shark shakes his head. Yuma aches to protest and explain that he doesn’t want to destroy the Barian world, that there has to be a better solution to this, but Shark is already unsheathing his sword. Even in the low light, Yuma can see the telltale wave patterns of the Damascus steel glinting, and he can imagine it swirling like the churning sea. “Yuma! We settle this here!”

Yuma doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to battle with Shark, or Nasch as he now calls himself, because he knows only one of them will survive this. He doesn’t have a chose. Even without Astral telling him, Yuma knows he can’t simply back down. Yanking his father’s sword from its scabbard causes his shoulder to scream. He balls his left hand into a fist and readies himself.

Yuma holds his ground while Nasch steps closer, Astral whispering strategy into his ear. He’s fought Shark before, but it’s different this time, worse this time.

Nasch makes the first move with a quick slash Yuma only just blocks. Their blades scrape and screech against each other, Yuma’s wobbling from the impact. His hand is sweaty, but there’s no time to wipe it on his shirt because as soon as Nasch backs off, he jabs and Yuma. Yuma dives out of the way, stumbles, and rightens himself just in time to block again.

Yuma pushes forward and swipes, successfully cutting into Nasch’s shirt and leaving a thin trail of blood. Nasch slams against him in retaliation, jostling Yuma’s bad arm. Yuma shouts in pain and grits his teeth. The wound has reopened and blood trickles down his arm and into his palm. He doesn’t have the luxury to compose himself before Nasch throws himself at Yuma again.

Their blades clash over and over; the cacophony of metal against metal harsh to their ears. Yuma bites his tongue, the taste of copper filling his mouth and he tries not to gag. It’s not long before they’re both sweating and gasping, struggling to catch their breaths.

“Shark... Why are we doing this?” Yuma gets out as Nasch blocks him. His blade slides at an angle across Nasch’s, and falls forward. He tries to roll so he can at least get out of the way before Nasch recovers enough to make another hit, but he’s exhausted and doesn’t have the energy to execute the roll properly. He doesn’t fall flat on his face, but he still has to waste precious moments climbing back to his feet.

Luckily, Nasch is just as tired as him, and didn’t swing at him. Yuma retreats and when Nasch doesn’t immediately follow, he gets a good look at his friend. Nasch is panting, one hand putting pressure against a slice on his side, his other hand only loosely gripping his sword. The blade is shiny from blood. Yuma’s blood. Nasch is covered in nicks and bruises, his hair frizzy and dripping with sweat. He should have pulled it up with a tie before they began, Yuma muses, momentarily forgetting that Nasch is supposed to be his enemy now.

“Why are we doing this?” Yuma asks again.

“The Numeron Code,” says Nasch just as Astral speaks up with, “To reach him.”

Yuma risks glancing over at his partner. “To reach him...?”

Astral closes their eyes and nods. “You told me you wanted to reach Shark. This is how you must do it.”

It’s worth a shot. Yuma turns to Nasch, who hasn’t moved. “Shark, I… There has to be another way. I don’t want to hurt you.” Nasch shifts his footing, his eyes sliding away from Yuma’s face. Yuma has known Shark long enough that he recognizes the action means he doesn’t like what he’s hearing.

Yuma presses on. “Please, Shark, we don’t have to do this. I, I’m sure that if we work together, we’ll be able to find a way to make all of us happy. There has to be a way for us to reach an agreement.”

Nasch shakes his head. “Yuma, the Astrals want to destroy my world, my people. I can’t let that happen.”

“They’ve changed! The Astral people know better now, they-” Yuma tries, but Nasch shakes his head again and Yuma knows he’s grasping at straws.

“It’s not enough.” He sounds sad, as though he wishes things didn’t have to be this way. Nasch finally meets Yuma’s eyes. “The Astrals have tried to terminate us once, how can I be sure they won’t try again? I have to end them, before they end us.”

“No,” Yuma mumbles, stepping back.

“Yuma, step aside. Surrender and I will spare you. The Astrals are my enemy, not you.” Nasch lets go of his side to hold his hand out to Yuma. His hand is bloody, but at the present time, there’s nothing Yuma wants to do other than take it and be done with this.

Yuma looks back at Astral. “You won’t last much longer,” they observe. “You won’t be able to defeat him.” Weeks ago, the words might have stung, but now Yuma knows he’s hit his limit. He’s only thirteen; his body isn’t meant to be able to handle such a beating.

Yuma turns back to Nasch, his hand still outstretched for Yuma to take. “Shark… I won’t give up on you. But, I won’t give up on Astral either. I will find a way to give us all what we want, with or without your help.”

Nasch drops his hand. “So be it.” He lifts his sword, and with three long strides, he’s right in front of Yuma. Yuma just barely reacts and moves to block, both his hand scrambling to grip the hilt but too slippery to grasp it properly. With a single, elegant movement, Nasch rips Yuma’s sword from his hands, and the blade goes flying.

Hands empty, Yuma gropes for the hilt at his hip. He yanks Hope out, knowing the dagger is no match for Nasch’s sword, but he has to do _something_. Nasch steps back, aims, and dives forward for the finishing strike. Yuma brings up Hope, and-

It all happens so fast. The edge of Nasch’s blade slices across the side of Yuma’s neck as Nasch throws himself forward, right onto the tip of Hope. Their eyes meet. Yuma can feel warm, warm blood trickling down his neck onto his shoulder, and even warmer blood spilling from Nasch’s chest where Hope is embedded.

“No,” whispers Yuma. Nasch’s knees buckle; he pulls his blade away from the edge of Yuma’s neck before dropping it. “No, I, I didn’t-”

Nasch, despite his tremendous pain, tries to smile. “It’s not your fault, Yuma. I chose this.” He coughs weakly, blood dribbling out the corner of his lips.

“I didn’t want this.” Yuma has to blink away the tears. Hands shaking, Nasch reaches up and wipes them away, only to smear blood across Yuma’s cheeks.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Nasch whispers. “I’m glad it was you who…” Nasch – no, not Nasch, _Shark_ – falls forward against Yuma, but Yuma can’t hold his weight. They both topple to the ground.

Yuma, in shock, doesn’t push him off, he just lies there as his blood mingles with Nasch’s. He can’t breathe, the weight of Shark’s limp body and guilt of his own actions strangling him. Kotori runs to his aid and carefully rolls Shark off of him.

“Yuma! Yuma!” Astral reaches down for him, but they’re incorporeal and their hand passes through him. Kotori presses her fingers against the pulse point on Shark’s neck, face ashen. She pulls away and moves over to Yuma, pressing a pieces of cloth against his neck where he’s been sliced, but the cut is so shallow that it’s already begun clotting.

“Yuma, can you hear me?” Kotori asks, rubbing the blood away from Yuma’s face.

“Yeah. Is, is he…”

“I’m sorry, Yuma.” Kotori’s eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh. My neck?”

“You’re going to be fine,” she tells him. “Shark, he…” Kotori looks away, biting her lip. Yuma already knows.

“Shark wasn’t going to kill me,” Yuma finishes for her, staring up at the dark clouds above beginning to dissipate. “He just wanted me to surrender.”

They stay silent for moments, or maybe hours, then. “Yuma.” Astral’s voice is gentle. “We need to find the Numeron Code.”

Yuma wants to tell them to go find it themself, just leave him be and let him mourn. Yuma sits up, ignoring as his bones and wounds and joints ache in protest. “Astral, we can change this, right? With the Code, we can save all of them? IV and Kaito and Rio and Shark?”

“Yes, Yuma.”

He gets to his feet, wobbling enough that Kotori has to support him. He tries not to look at Shark’s body, but he can’t help it. His heart clenches, and he turns away. “Kattobingu, Astral.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please remember to leave a kudos/comment, it means a lot to me <3


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